


With One Eye, Looking At Tomorrow

by teenuviel1227



Series: The Rings of Saturn [2]
Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: #jaehyngparkianweek2018, Fluffy, M/M, Space!AU, also adventure, crownedprince!Jae, it's fun, renegadepilot!Brian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 05:56:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13897731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenuviel1227/pseuds/teenuviel1227
Summary: In which Brian is a renegade pilot of the resistance and Jae is a runaway prince. This one’ll be short but sweet.





	With One Eye, Looking At Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! This is for Day 4 of Jaehyungparkian Week, the theme of which is Space :D
> 
> Sorry for typos im so tired
> 
> Apologies if this one is a little bit shorter than usual for me. It was supposed to be a 1.5k one-off (just the first scene) but given the events of today, I thought I would extend the adventures of Crown Prince of Saturn Jae and renegade rebel pilot Brian.
> 
> If you guys have no idea what I’m talking about, I’m hosting a [fan art/fan fic fest over here](https://twitter.com/day6sailing/status/968701090828046337) along with a bunch of awesome people and this week is Jaehyungparkian week. Come join the fun! 
> 
> Title is from The Real Folk Blues from the Cowboy Bebop Soundtrack
> 
> I won’t be posting for Faeries, which is Day 5 because I’ll be working non-stop on my Day 6 entry although I know a lot of awesome people who are posting for D5 so stay tuned! And please post for Faeries if you can!!! :D
> 
>  
> 
> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/teenuviel1227)  
> [Tumblr](http://teenuviel1227.tumblr.com)  
> [Curious Cat](http://curiouscat.me/teenuviel1227)

The heist goes wrong somewhere around the time that Brian was supposed to swoop down and catch Wonpil just below the twelfth balcony of the sixth level of Saturn’s royal palace: yeah, sure, Brian’s there as agreed, ship at a regulated fall of 20 kph, hatch open, tethers out--but instead of Wonpil standing there in his stealth suit ready to jump into the hatch with the Shield of Saturn strapped to his back as planned, there’s some other guy running toward the platform and then jumping off--white robes, a flash of blonde hair underneath the hood, grade-A sabers strapped to his back, what looks like a 878 Diamant laser gun in his hand--and Brian’s caught off-guard, realizes it too late, only catches on that whoever the hell that is, that isn’t his comrade as the hatch is closing, as the man in white is tucking-and-rolling into his ship, climbing into the sniper’s seat toward the rear of his X-Wing fighter, the YoungK.

“Who the fuck are you?” Brian asks, in a state of panic, struggling to keep his eyes in front of him long enough to pull them up from the free-fall and gain enough momentum to blast out of the atmosphere. _Where’s Wonpil? Where’s the shield?_

“Just fucking go,” the guy says. His voice is gentle, serene, but firm--a voice that’s used to giving commands and being followed.

“Where the fuck is Wonpil?”

Imperial pods fly out of the landing strip on the East Wing. One of pods fires at them. The man in white turns back to the sniper console, aims and takes a row of three out, using one shot to ricochet off the second ship as it takes out the first, subsequently knocking the third one out of the sky.

“Look,” the guys says, still intent on his target practice. “Your friend’s safe but if you don’t fucking fly this ship out of here we’re all going to die.”

Brian curses under his breath, hits the breaks before steering up, sharper than is safe, sharper than is comfortable, and then hitting the gas like his life depends on it (it does).  They hit a couple of things on the way: take a clothesline hanging from one of the guard’s towers out and up with them, knock one of the Saturnian flags off of its pole, swing short of a Titus tree, its sinewy branch hanging askew as they zoom up, up, closer to the amber atmosphere.

“YoungK, come in.” Wonpil’s voice fizzles in through the stereo.

Brian hits the comms button as he spots more imperial pods come flying straight for them. “Where the fuck are you and who the hell is this guy?”

“Long story,” Wonpil says. “Good news is I’ve commandeered a ship. Bad news is that they managed to hit the self-destruct button before I could take them out so. This baby’s gonna blow in like two minutes, thirty seconds. Can you see me? I’m signalling you. Blinking blue. One-double-one-triple.”

“I can’t see you.” Brian scans the horizon. “Where are you? Pil, where the hell are you?”

“There!” The man in white pipes up from his sniper’s seat. “Around five out, head out at full speed and then open the hatch right as we’re under him.”

“Are you fucking crazy?” Brian asks. “Eject pushes _up_.”

“Of course eject pushes up, you idiot, but Saturnian self-destruct is built into the eject button. If he hits that, the whole thing’ll blow up. He has to get to the fire escape chute and then disengage. We can catch him on the way down.”

Brian frowns, hating to be told what to do--more so by someone he doesn’t know, someone who’s forced himself onto _his_ ship. He sighs.

“Well, you heard the man, Bri,” Wonpil’s voice says. “Now, fucking go. There isn’t much time.”

With that, Brian flies back then up, catapulting them forward, making for Wonpil’s ship. The man in white takes out another a droid that fires a beam which grazes The YoungK’s wing.

“Fucking fascist assholes,” the man in white mutters under his breath.

Brian grins despite himself. “You sound weird when you curse.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?”

Brian doesn’t answer, just dodges two more droids, turning the jet at an angle so that the man in white can get a clear shot.

“Bada-bing, bada-boom.” The man says as the two droids explode, sparks bright in the night sky.

Brian can hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t get cocky. Two more to the left. I’m going back on course. Time’s running out.”

“Got it, YoungK.”

“That’s the name of the ship, you idiot. My name’s Brian.”

The man laughs. “My name’s Jae, not idiot, you idiot.”

Brian grins as they make a beeline for Wonpil, hovering underneath a small, red square on the belly of the ship which he guesses is the escape chute that Jae was talking about.

It’s closed, no Wonpil in sight.

“Pil, where the fuck--”

“--oh shit,” Jae says.

“--what is it?”

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jae’s eyes widen. “They’ve brought out The Lobster. Fuck, they know I’m here.”

“The fuck is The Lob--oh fuck--” Brian’s pulse starts to quicken as he sees it coming toward them: the ship is _huge,_ alabaster-white, equipped with KLX9 bulbous lazers on both ends, mimicking lobster claws--he’d seen those in action when they were looking for deals on Pluto: they didn’t come fucking cheap because they could incinerate anything and everything within 35 kilometers.

“--PIL! Anytime now!” Brian yells into the comms. He glances at the gauge as he hits the recognition feature for the approaching ship. “We’re within 30 km, any closer and they’ll kill us.”

“Oh, they won’t kill us,” Jae says. “I’m here. They’ll do far worse than just kill us.”

“For the nth fucking time,” Brian snaps. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m down, open the hatch!” Wonpil’s voice is loud and clear.

Brian looks up to see Wonpil dangling from the open chute, slender figure compact in his black stealth suit, ready for the drop, the Shield of Saturn strapped to his back. He hits open on the hatch. Wonpil makes the jump, landing just in time, bracing himself with a hand to the ground, back curled around a single knee that grazes the floor of the ship before he tucks and rolls. Above them, the ship explodes. The momentum jerks them forward. 34 km.

_Fuckfuckfuck._

“Pil, hold onto something.”

Wonpil holds onto the stereo that Brian’s mounted to the wall with old, rusty nails and a shitload of electric tape.

Brian goes backward as fast as he can. Wonpil hits his head against the wall. Jae thinks for a moment he’s impaled himself on the sniper console. A shift of gears, a kick of fuel and they’re off--up, up, up into the hazy amber of the Saturnian atmosphere. As soon as they hit neutral space, Brian plots the coordinates for the homebase (0938.kL982, -0.876JmE--the dark side of the smallest moon in the orbit of Gliese 832C, a planet two galaxies away), entering hyperspace as soon as he can.

He gives a sigh of relief as the ship stabilizes. Thirty minutes tops and they’d be home. He undoes his seatbelt, turns to look at Wonpil.

“Okay, Pil. What the fuck happened? And will someone finally tell me who Mr. Lobster is?”

Jae swivels around in his seat, grinning. He crosses his legs, smug.

Wonpil grins, shifting nervously. “Okay. So. Well, remember how the mission was to get the shield so we could study it and see how to better proof our ships--”

“--duh.”

“Well, I got kind of greedy because I saw a bunch of plans sitting next to it--turns out that this guy over here was trying to get to those same plans because he was going to run away. So I made him a deal.”

“You made a _deal_ with some _stranger_ and you let him onto our ship? Look, Pil. This is a fucking top secret mission. Do you even know what _renegade_ means? We can’t go around picking up every person we meet--”

“--I don’t--”

“--the juggler in Neptune? The guy with a three-headed dog that time that we were on Kratos?”

“This is different.”

Brian crosses his arms over his chest. “Yeah, how?”

Wonpil  grins nervously. “Well, first of all, this guy had the plans and the shield so I had no choice. Second of all, he isn’t _just_ anyone.”

“So who is he?”

“Promise not to get mad--”

“--WONPIL--”

“--he’s--”

“--oh for fuck’s sake,” Jae says, throwing his hood back.

Brian gasps--his hair is an almost-silver-blonde, the crest of Saturn burning bright auburn on his forehead, its rings perfect, tilted at the angle at which Saturn faces the sun.

“Oh my god. You’re--”

“Jaehyung Pandora of the line of Methone, Ring of Titan, House of Surtur, born under the moon of Prometheus, first of his goddamn name. Crown Prince to the Saturnian Empire. And I’m going to help you take down my father.”

“Jesus Christ,” Brian says, eyebrows furrowing. “We’re all going to die.”

“On the contrary, YoungK--”

“--for fuck’s sake, that’s the _ship_ , I’m Brian--”

“--we’re going to live. We’re going to win this goddamn war or die trying.”

 

Brian himself isn’t sure when it happens, exactly. One moment, he’s annoyed as hell at this odd, lanky stranger who’s almost certainly going to get them killed, who is _surely_ going to get the entire resistance torn apart shred-by-shred with his mere presence, not to mention his too-loud laughter, his snarky, off-kilter jokes, his weird habit of standing too close to you whenever he talks--and the next,  they’re as thick as thieves. One moment, he’s irritated that they’re going to be roommates and the next thing he knows it, they’re up all night telling stories: Jae telling him about the things on Saturn that he’d loved (even as he hated them, now), Brian telling Jae about life on Earth before the end, before the Great Evacuation. Maybe it’s sometime between teaching him to fly the older X-Wing models and realizing that Jae is an excellent pilot--he has a kind of technical suaveness from being empire-trained that Brian will never admit to admiring--and finding out that Jae is actually a pretty cool guy: down to earth, funny, sardonic but kind, sweet, even, and with deadly-good aim as a sniper.

Whenever that started, Brian holds onto the memory of where, well, the _other_ thing started. The thing burning like Neptunean liquor in his veins, the strange desire licking at his consciousness like the seas of Kepler 14-B with their wild, thrashing tides, the creature that refuses to fall asleep when he lays awake at night in the bunk he shares with Jae.

It happens on an ordinary afternoon: the Glisean atmosphere is a beautiful lilac, the blue sun setting to give way to silver darkness, the twin moons rising in the distance. It’s two weeks until the Big Plan that General Sungjin and Dowoon have been cooking up is set to be put into motion. It’s a one-off thing: the Saturnian capital of Tirith has a secret weapon, a bomb that is the reason for all of Saturn’s power--the galaxies and great powers are in a cold war because of it, refuse to budge because of the empire’s claim. The plan is a simple one with a very complicated way of getting there.

First, they need Jae--the bomb’s fail-safes only gave way to someone of royal blood. They’re still shy about inquiring as to what Jae’s power is, if the myths about the royal family are true: rumor has it they’re descended from the angels, from those closest to the Source, and are blessed with some kind of supernatural gift. In any case, he’s excellent at hand-to-hand combat. In any case, he knows the place better than any of them.

Second, they need Wonpil: instead of the usual cell or dungeon, the bomb is revered like a god in Tirith--is held high up in a cage made of the strongest glass and metal, balanced precariously on silk-like threads from special spiders, ones emerald-green and ten feet tall living in the deepest caves of Aberras. The webs are strong as steel, delicate as a strand of hair. To get to it, they need someone light on his feet, someone with the dexterity of a locksmith and grace of a gymnast.

And last: they need someone to wield the shield. The shield is usually given to the Lieutenant of the Guard, the one sworn to protect the Crown Prince. This is why Jae had run away in the first place: they’d murdered his Lieutenant--and he knew that some kind of assassination plot was in place. His stepmother, the Queen, hated him, favored her son, Gamja for the throne. But the thing about the shield is that it’s picky. It’s made to feed off of good intention, kindness, innocence, but requires physical strength, is made of the strongest silver in all of Saturn, mined from the Glass Mountains  in the north.

When the cage dropped, it would gravitate toward Jae. When the cage dropped, they would need a shield that could withstand it.

Many of the members of the resistance tried but none of them could wield it long enough for whatever Jae was looking for--the forcefield, he kept saying: Sungjin could block with it, but it wouldn’t _glow_ under his touch, Dowoon had gotten it to _glow_ but it refused to stay steady when he held it up, Moonbyul had gotten a good way into both, a faint amber ring cresting around her but she was their best warrior and the anger made the shield burn in her hands. Jae began to evaluate them like a tutor at maths: Kevin too happy, Jamie too sardonic, Mark too carefree, Bernard too serious, the litany of names and superlatives seemingly endless.

And so that left Brian, who picked it up for funsies ( _do you guys know what a frisbee is?_ ), and had set the whole thing aglow: a bright, burning auburn sphere forming around himself and Jae, clear as fireworks, impenetrable as the strongest metal. (Sungjin had tried shooting at them with a laser gun--swore it would never have hurt either of them.)

So Brian it is. After a few minutes, he’d fainted from exhaustion, but that was that, Jae said. That was the forcefield.

Today, the day that _it_ happens, Brian’s learning how to use the damn thing, with Jae putting his arms around Brian, holding up his wrists as he shows him exactly how to place his hands on the rim to activate the forcefield without feeling too much whiplash.

They’re standing in the sand, at the mouth of the resistance base--located inside a cave, with all the maintenance for the ships on the outer cusp, by the alcove where they’re hidden from sky-sight by the lip of the mountain as it curves into the red, Gliesean sea--with their toes dug firmly into the sand.

“Forty-five degrees--and then channel just enough energy, like pulling a sword out of a stone: reach for it in your mind,” Jae says, putting his hands atop Brian’s, adjusting his grip.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Brian asks, laughing. “That some weird, hippy-dippy shit?”

Jae smacks him in the back of the head. “No, as a matter of fact it’s science, Earthling. We didn’t get to becoming the biggest empire across fifteen galaxies by slacking off, you know. We know what we’re talking about so if you’re going to, what was it, bring Saturnian scum to their knees? Then you’re going to have to listen when I tell you shit--”

“--fine,” Brian says, sighing before getting back into position.

“Alright,” Jae says. “Now, reach for it in you mind--it’s a memory, something bright and burning like a sword. The axis of your being.”

“Do I know what this is supposed to be or do I make it up? Because when I think of something bright and burning, I think of, like, a ship crashing--”

“--no, that’s terrible,” Jae says, shaking his head. “It has to be something good, something stable. Something that makes you feel warm, that reminds you who you are. For example, when I use my weapon of choice, I think of my mom. Before she passed away, we used to spend weekends at our house in the countryside with the golden lakes, the bright, purple flowers.”

“Right,” Brian says. “Okay. I guess I can do that.”

Jae nods. “Now think about that memory in detail, think of it slowly, and simultaneously hold it up. Imagine you’re raising it to the sky.”

Brian does as he’s told. In his mind, he thinks of the house that he used to live in as a boy back home on Earth before the Great Evac, as everyone calls it now. Red roof, small kitchen. A bowl of ramyun steaming before him, loaded with onions and sausage slices, topped with spicy chili and sesame seeds. He remembers the hot smell of it, the sound of a cheesy love song on the radio coming in from the kitchen. He thinks of his Eomma, painting her nails at the kitchen table while talking to his aunt on the phone, the receiver held between her shoulder and her ear. He thinks of his Appa, whistling off-beat to the song on the radio.

“Perfect,” Jae says, pressing a cheek to Brian’s nape. Brian feels a current of electricity down his spine as Jae’s fingertips graze his arms, leaving Brian to support the shield on his own. “Now, in your minds eye, rest the memory on the shield like it depends on it. Like if you drop the shield, the memory will shatter and be lost forever.”

Brian does as he’s told and the shield's weight shift, becoming lighter in his grasp, stabilizing.

“Beautiful,” Jae says. Brian feels him grinning. “Now open your eyes, Bri.”

Brian lets his eyes flutter open and his breath is taken away. It’s _beautiful_. Where there had once been a bright, burning amber sphere, now there’s a whole aurora borealis of colors: bright green and deep pink, fluorescent yellows mixing in with the most vivid blue that Brian has seen in his life.

Jae smiles, lets him go to face him. The emblem on his forehead is glowing too, bright hair blowing across his forehead.

_He looks beautiful._

“Are you using your power too?” Brian’s voice is a little more breathless than he intends.

“Yup,” Jae says, grinning wide.

“What is it?” Brian clears his throat. “I mean if you don’t mind my asking.

Jae laughs a little to himself. “Maybe I’ll tell you one day. Now, to let the forcefield down, imagine tucking that memory back in your pocket, imagine slowly sheathing the sword again. Your axis needs to be kept safe. Remember that.”

Jae pats the small space left of Younghyun’s chest and his heart comes alive, roaring like a thrashing sea.

 

It takes getting captured for Jae to finally say anything. They _almost_ make it out: Wonpil cuts the cage free, the shield goes up in time, they hold the prized bomb between them--and then they’re running, down, down, down the stairwell, making for the balcony where Sungjin and Dowoon are going to be waiting for them with the ship. They spot it: hatch open, ready for them. Wonpil goes first, sliding up and in, bomb tight in his arms.

And then they hear it: The Lobster, the firing of lasers.

“Hurry up!” Wonpil yells, gesturing at them.

“We won’t make it,” Jae says quietly to Brian. “It’s too far. You go ahead.”

Brian gives him a look of disbelief. “You’re crazy if you think I’m actually going to do that.”

“You’re an idiot,” Jae says, point blank.

“No,” Brian says, grinning as he pulls the shield out from where it’s strapped to his back, putting himself in front of Jae, between him and the oncoming attackers. “I’m Brian.”

_I love you._

“What the fuck are you guys doing?” Wonpil’s screaming now, his hair blowing in the wind from the engines.

“Sungjin!” Jae yells over the din. “Get out of here.”

“No--”

A beam grazes the side of the ship, nearly grazing Wonpil’s hip. “Fuck.”

“Go!” Brian yells. “Get the hell out of here!”

“We’ll come back for you guys!” Dowoon shouts through the comms as the hangar starts to close, like a smile slowly settling into a straight face.

“Just get the fuck out or The Lobster--”

The ship takes off, everything a whirl of wind and crossfire. Brian lights up the forcefield, a nebula of light swirling in a sphere around them. Jae takes a breath before drawing his laser guns, slipping his arms over Brian’s shoulders, aiming true. His breath grazes Brian’s ear when he speaks.

“They’re going to try and use The Lobster on us. When they get close enough, let your guard down. They’re not going to kill us--”

Jae fires, taking down four guards with two shots, one from each gun.

“--you don’t know that,” Brian says, voice rising with panic. “You don’t--”

“--come on. Trust me.”

And Brian does. He can’t help it.

 

 

So they find themselves in a cold, dark dungeon made entirely of fiberglass so that the darkness of it is at once oppressive and endless, only the sliver of moonlight filtering in from the narrow air vent at the top of the cell to light up the narrow room. There’s no heating down here, no kindnesses given to the prisoners who threaten the empire.

“Well,” Brian says, his stomach aching with hunger, mouth parched with thirst. “You were right about the not killing us part. But to be honest, they might as well have.”

“Sungjin and Dowoon are coming back,” Jae says. “We won’t have to wait long.”

Brian looks at him, half-amused, half exasperated, half in awe. He hates how optimistic Jae can be sometimes, but finds himself getting caught up in it. And also, the one good thing about this cell is that the moonlight falls right over Jae like a blanket of light. His eyes browner than ever, almost hazel, his lashes seeming frosted with illumination, his near-silver hair burning bright.

_He’s so handsome_

Jae glances at him. “What?”

Brian grins. “Half the time I don’t know if you’re crazy or if you actually know what you’re talking about.”

Jae laughs, giving Brian an odd look. “Right back atcha. First day on your ship, you hate me--”

“--it was a _shootout,_ for fuck’s sake--”

“--then we get to base and you’re the best roommate anyone could ask for--”

“--man, that’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard--”

“--you help me get things sorted, explain how things work--”

“--I’d do it for anyone--”

“--exactly. And then you say you don’t want to even try with the shield and then turns out you’re the only one who can wield it. I don’t know sometimes,” Jae says, grinning. He watches Brian in the half-light: his dark hair inky, silky where it brushes against his brows. His bomber jacket is undone now, the zipper half-down, exposing the hollow of his throat. Jae looks into his eyes.

“Well. I don’t know. It just happened.” Brian doesn’t break his gaze.

_I want to kiss him._

Jae smiles. “No regrets though, over all, right?”

“Not even a little.”

They watch each other for a while, both unsure how to proceed.

It’s Jae who breaks the silence. “If you’re going to do it you should.”

“Do what?”

Jae grins. “Kiss me.”

“ _What_?” Brian panics, cheeks heating up. “What are you--”

“--Sungjin and the ship’ll be back for us in approximately fifteen minutes,” Jae says. “And they’ll be blasting through a wall, so--”

“--Jae, are you--” Brian frowns, notices that the emblem on Jae’s forehead is glowing brighter and brighter.

Jae laughs. “I thought you’d figure it out sooner.”

“Is your power--”

“--mind-reading, you idiot. So like I said. Hurry up.”

Brian takes a breath, moves closer, closer still until their noses brush against each other. “For the nth fucking tme, the name’s Brian.”

And with that, he presses their lips together softly in a kiss. Brian’s heart soars in his chest--he’s never felt anything quite like this before. Jae’s hand comes to his nape, ruffling the soft hair there as he smiles into the kiss. His heart feels full, all his sacrifices seeming to culminate in this redemption.

“Wow,” Brian says when they pull apart. He blinks.

Jae grins. “Wow yourself. Now I’m definitely going to have to survive or I’ll never get to do that again.”

Brian laughs, a soft sound in the darkness. He rests his head against Jae’s shoulder, presses his lips to his temple. “You’d better--”

With that, the entire wall opposite them blows up, giving way to the night sky in which hangs their ship, ramp open, hovering.

“Hurry up, love birds!” Sungjin yells. “We’ve got a revolution to fight!”

And with that, Jae and Brian run out toward the ship, hand in hand as they jump onto the hatch and toward safety, two figures in the starlit night.


End file.
